Boyle the Beekeeper
by moonpiece
Summary: Boyle brings home an unusual surprise. Ingrid is not amused (okay, maybe a little).


Author's Note: This is pure, gratuitous crack, but the Bee movie script meme is hilarious and Aveyond 4 needs more fic so I have no regrets.

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When Ingrid walked into her house after a long day of potion-making, the last thing she expected to see was a room full of bees.

Boyle seemed to be trying to coax them back into the empty beehive on their bed, but wasn't doing anything more than swatting around and flinching whenever a bee flew too close. Ingrid cleared her throat, and her husband leapt back several feet, knocking over a cabinet full of potion ingredients and miscellaneous relics from Boyle's villain days that he refused to part with.

"Need any help?" Ingrid deadpanned. She considered casting a spell on the bees to make them attack Boyle, but she wasn't in the mood to take him a healer tonight. Besides, there was always the chance the spell would backfire, and she wasn't in the mood to have Boyle painstakingly pluck bee stingers out of her skin either.

"Bees," was Boyle's only reply. Perhaps he was too scared of letting one into his mouth lest he say any more.

A crackling ball of energy formed in Ingrid's left hand. With a flick of her manicured index finger, she directed the energy into the hive, and the swarm of bees followed suit.

Ingrid folded her arms, shifted her weight onto one foot, and aimed an annoyed glare in Boyle's general direction while she waited for her husband to right his clothes and regain his dignity. He would need it in order to explain what in all of Aia he was thinking when he let a hive of bees loose in their house.

"Sit down, Boyle," Ingrid began in her best don't-mess-with-me-or-I-will-hex-you voice. "Not there, sit on the bed, next to the bees. Now, would you mind telling me who or what put a berserk curse on you, because I can think of no other explanation of why you would bring home a hive of bees!"

"I was thinking, since I'm 'retired' now, apparently, that I'd need a hobby. And what better hobby than beekeeping? I met this wonderful traveling bee salesman in the market today, and he told me all about the health benefits of honey, and how the bees are endangered. If bees go extinct the entire world supply of food could-"

"You fool, that's just a marketing ploy to sell more bees!"

"Don't be so cynical, Ingrid. He also gave me this beekeeping manual - free with the purchase of one beehive, I might add - and it's all right here." Boyle rummaged around in the folds of his villain costume and pulled out a small white booklet, which Ingrid promptly snatched out of his hands.

"'Bee Movie Script'," she read. "What's a movie? Or a script?"

"I don't know, but he said it fell through from a portal to another dimension." He took the booklet from her and flipped it open to the first page. "'According to all known laws of aviation, a bee should not be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway, because bees do not care what humans think is impossible.' Isn't that the greatest opening to any literary masterpiece you've ever read?"

Ingrid kicked off her boots and sat down next to Boyle on the bed. She rested her chin on his shoulder as she angled the book so she could better read this so-called 'script' "Let me see that...'Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow, let's shake it up a little.' Boyle, what kind of drivel is this?"

"You have no taste in art. The main character - Barry, he's called - is a talking bee. He's trying to choose his outfit, but they're all black and yellow. Because he's a BEE."

"A talking insect, eh? That's not that funny." Ingrid's face suddenly split into a wicked grin. "Unless it's that time I turned you into a bug. Now THAT was HILARIOUS."

Boyle began to pout in that way he does when one of his evil schemes doesn't go as planned and he tries to hide it behind a facade of villainous anger, but just ends up looking adorable. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you? All these months, I support this house, and all you can do is-"

"I'm the one who works. You're retired, remember?" Ingrid interjected.

"But the name. MY name. The great evil legacy of Wolfbane has carried us-"

"Your name is Pendragon, and I'm pretty sure the royal family officially disowned you."

"Well. I just. You. You're married to me, so [i]technically[/i] they disowned you too!" Boyle threw his hands up in exasperation, looking over at the hive of bees as if he expected agree with him.

Ingrid sighed again. She would never run out of sighs as long as she was married to this ridiculous man, who kept evil thrones in his living room and brought home hives full of bees and scripts from parallel universes. But he was cursed to spent the rest of this life with her, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Ingrid suspected that it would be a good idea to invest in a bee-proof veil to attach to her hat.

"Hey Boyle, want to read some more of that Bee Movie Script?"

"Okay."


End file.
